by Nikki Ryker
Then she's standing across from me, her hands linked with mine. The gentle pressure of them soothes the worst of my nerves. She's here. I can worry about the rest when it comes.
The minister's speech seems to take a small eternity. I can tell Cleo thinks so too, because her dark eyes keep darting down to stare at my lips. She wants to kiss as badly as I do. When the vows do come, she repeats them breathlessly. I repeat them without hesitation, sliding the ring onto her finger with a smile. I've never been so sure of anything in my life.
The kiss we share is electric, her arms tightening around my neck, holding me so close we're nearly one person. My lips mold to hers, tasting her, pulling her bottom lip until she sucks in a breath and bows her body into mine. We don't break apart until the minister makes a small, uncomfortable cough behind us. I grin unrepentantly. If I had my way, we'd scandalize the minister.
Cleo links her arm with mine and leads me back the way she'd come. I shut the door behind us when we reach the lobby. Cleo lets out a breathless little laugh.
"Ryker, we have to let the guests out." She pushes my face lightly away from where I've nestled it in the crook of her neck. Her breath comes in quick, excited pants. I can convince her if I try. But I good naturedly pull away with a grumble.
"Let's skip the receiving line," I murmur. "Holly and Cruz have Bryan for the weekend. Let's make the most of it."
"After the reception," she says with a grin full of promise. "Then later I'll fuck your brains out."
"Is that a promise, Mrs. Fenton?"
She closes her eyes, as if she's savoring the words. I wonder if it feels as good to hear them as it does to say them.
"It is," she says. She offers me a hand. "Now, let's go. We don't want to keep the family waiting, do we?"
The family is half the MC that's bothered to show up for the wedding. Neither Cleo nor I have family around. Hers, because of death, mine because of distance and general jackassery. I don't care for most of my relatives. The MC is our family. Our life. Each and every one of us is a Spade, ready to die for each other if we had to. And really, at the end of the day, wasn't that what family was? The people you turned to when things were great or at their shittiest?
I took her hand and squeezed it. "Of course not. Lead the way."
Epilogue
Cleo
"God, I swear you're more overprotective than Cruz!" I exclaim. "I didn't think that was even possible, you know?"
Ryker glances up at me, though his amusement doesn't fade. "I'm better than a lot of things than Cruz."
From the devilish glint in his eyes I know exactly what he's talking about. My cheeks heat in spite of myself. It wasn't exactly if I had any opportunity to verify the truth of that claim for myself. But I've been very impressed by his performance.
"I think Holly would say those were fighting words."
"She's seven months pregnant," he points out. "I don't think she's going to win many boxing matches."
Holly is undergoing similar treatment as me, as friction grows between the Spades and the Hellions. We're being boxed in. The Kings on one side, and the Hellions coming at us from another. They test our commitment to our ethics every day, gaining more ground. Soon there will have to be large-scale fighting to keep them from advancing further, hurting more people.
"But house arrest? Come on!"
"It's just until the baby is born."
I huff, though I have a feeling he's probably right. Just like their former leader, this new group doesn't have a problem attacking women or children to get to their real targets. It's safest for Bryan and me to stay home for the time being. It doesn't mean I like it.
I flop onto the couch next to him and cross my arms across my chest, unwilling to admit defeat. This whole situation is incredibly unfair.
Ryker places a gentle kiss to my shoulder then, when I don't immediately shove his face away, he places another on my clavicle, placing soft nips and kisses on the sensitive skin of my throat. Maybe it's the pregnancy hormones, but every time he touches me these days I feel like a livewire, desire coursing through me the second he's near.
He skims his hand over my breasts and down to the small bump that juts from my abdomen.
"I care about keeping you, Bryan, and Maria safe."
I smile just a little. We'd picked the name out together when the sonogram told us we were having a girl. Soon she'd be kicking the crap out of him too.
My irritation with him finally melts away. He's right. I can't dangle myself out there as bait. I have a family to consider now. Who will take care of Bryan and Maria if we're both gone?
"Fine. I'll stay. But only until the baby is born. This time you're taking paternity leave to watch the kids. I'm getting out there and finding myself a job."
He nods, agreeing to my demands. I'm a little disappointed actually. I am itching for a fight. The sex after is always amazing. I blow out a breath and snuggle in closer. We tune the TV to the news, and I snatch the remote and flick through channels until I find a soap opera. Serves him right for trapping me in the house for the next five months.
"This again?"
"Serves you right." I grumble the thought aloud this time.
My cell phone rings in the other room, and I climb to my feet to get it. Ryker beats me to the punch, springing to his feet with the speed of any professional athlete. I glare at him, though it's envy that fuels most of my anger. I miss being nimble. Stupid, sexy biker with his sculpted abs and perfect toned body. I feel like a manatee next to him.
When he returns with my phone, he's squinting at the number. I glance at the screen, bemused when it only reads "private number."
"Should I answer it?"
He shrugs. "Why not? If it's a telemarketer just hang up."
I press the green button and lift the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
"Hello, Miss Sutton," A familiar, gravelly voice says. Though I've only heard its timbre once, there's no way I could forget this man's voice. "Or shall I say, Mrs. Fenton now? Congratulations on your nuptials."
There's more to this phone call than a simple congratulations. He could have done that months ago when Ryker and I tied the knot. I'm under no illusions that his call is purely social.
My voice is thin when I finally answer. "What do you want, Gardel?"
Ryker stiffens beside me and gestures for me to put the call on speakerphone. I do it quickly and Calamity Gardel's laugh peals out of the speakers. It's a dark, rich sound. I'm a happily married woman, but even so, that voice still does things to a woman.
"You know what this call is about, Mrs. Fenton. I trust you've allowed your brutish husband listen in on our correspondence."
I glance out the blinds and wonder if he's got someone in the night watching us. Maybe he's just that good at reading people. But either way, it makes my skin crawl. I've had enough of this cat and mouse game to last me a lifetime.
"Spit it out, Gardel. We haven't got all night."
"You owe me a debt. I've come to collect."
It's my worst fears confirmed. What will he ask of us? What price are we about to pay for our freedom?
"What do you want?" Ryker repeats.
"I have a problem and I want you to deal with it. It should be simple on your end, I believe. I need someone out of the way."
Ryker and I exchange glances. Does he want us to kill someone? I decide not to ask. I don't want to give the man ideas.
"Who is it?" Ryker asks cautiously.
I can practically feel the smile on the other end of the line.
"Kase Cruz."
Dear Reader,
Thanks for reading.
I hope you’ll leave a review and/or rating at the retail website where you purchased it, I appreciate you and your feedback.
Thanks again,
Nikki Riker
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